Garden Path

Chapter 1

It's high noon. The temperature is baking the earth but Rey, used to being out under the sun, doesn't mind the heat but she does mind the fact that the gauge that indicates her petrol is blinking. It's been blinking for the past few minutes and she knows her little car will stop dead soon.

The year is two thousand and one. The new century has just started and here she is, at her own new beginning, in the middle of nowhere, lost and running out of petrol. This doesn't bode well. She needs a phone and a reliable map. But the mobile phone is expensive and the map she has is tattered, with some words unreadable. She should have listened to Finn more closely when he was naming the places.

Muttering under her breath and casting her eyes out looking for anyone, any life form that isn't trees, shrubs or grass. Nope, no other sign of life except for the greens and the little critters and the sound they make. It's so tranquil out here but it's in direct contradiction to what she's feeling. Damn it! She mutters again. She doesn't generally swear but this unfortunate occasion merits a swear word or two. Gah whether she can or can't string a lengthy epithet is the least of her worries. Even if she shouts offensive curse words, nobody will care, for nobody is around but her.

When suddenly, she sees it...a glint of steel. It's a part of a gate that's losing paint. Saying a prayer of thanks under her breath, she coaxes her car just a little bit more and is able to park it on the side of the road before it sputters and dies on her. There's not that much vehicles passing through here considering the last one she saw was over two hours ago. But still the other drivers are maybe driving fast thinking the roads are quite empty and they can run into her car while she's out talking to the owner of the place. She can see that happening with the way her luck is running today. Thankfully, her car's park safely that only a moron will hit it.

She calls out, "Hello," before she climbs the gate. She has walked uphill on a rough track that seems wide enough to fit a car for the last ten minutes before she sees the cottage. It's beautiful, a work of art really. It blends well with its surrounding woodland with its green walls and maple red roof. It isn't big but it isn't small either and it's framed on the sides by trees. At the back, she can see the majestic mountains but on the front there's a huge vacant lawn that looks like it can double as a parking area for several cars but at the moment it's just empty.

"Hello. Anybody here?" Rey calls out again and gets no answer. She bites her lower lip, wondering if nobody is home. She knocks on the door, no answer. She turns her head and leans down on the door, putting her right ear on the flat surface, trying to listen for any movement when suddenly the door is pulled from the inside.

She struggles not to lose her balance as she says hurriedly, "Sorry, I didn't mean to appear I uhm..."

A bearded man stands just inside the door with distrust in his eyes."Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm Rey. I ran out of petrol. I uhm wondering if you have petrol to spare," she replies sheepishly. Being caught with her ear on the door must have made her appear like a burglar or something. "Oh and I'm not a burglar, I swear." She raises her right hand, palm out after making a sort of cross sign on her chest.

Luke's eyes narrow down. The person in front of him looks too young, and too...cheerful to be anything other than what she says. "Then you must be stupid for coming here alone."

Rey understands what the old man is trying to say and isn't insulted for being called stupid. Okay maybe just a little. She cringes. "Yes, I am that, I'm afraid. Although, I did intend to be at my destination by now. I think I took a wrong turn. Your house is the only one I've seen for miles. It is either I risk waiting for a car to come long who is willing to share petrol or to walk for miles to God knows where when I saw your gate. I did fear meeting a pervert but you don—"

"I'm not a pervert!" Luke cuts the young child off, appalled and insulted.

"Oh I know that." Rey smiles, trying to coax the older man to smile too. In her predicament, she should be afraid but she isn't. The old man appears to be grumpy but she can see his eyes are not cruel. She has seen a lot of cruel eyes to know when she's not seeing one.

"You're too trusting," Luke complains.

"Am not," Rey argues.

Luke snorts. "Wait here."

Rey watches as Luke goes out his door, locks it and goes towards the side of the house. She hasn't noticed the garage before since even that is cleverly done in a way that the woods seem to hide it. Rey follows Luke to the garage.

"I told you to wait there." Luke almost snaps, but doesn't turn his head from what he's doing. He gets a liter from his stock. It should be enough for her to reach the nearest gas station if she turns right rather than left or straight at the crossing.

Reaching for the proffered container, "Thanks," says Rey. She then puts it down so she can get her scruffy wallet from her bag to pay.

Luke glares at the money, not reaching for it. "Keep it."

"I don't want to be indebted more than I should."

The kid probably has limited funds. "If you go away now, I'll considered it paid."

Rey grins, tucking her paper bills back inside her wallet.

"And for God's sake, turn right when you see the crossroad later."

—oOo—

Rey, with the petrol and proper directions this time, is able to reach the town and find a gas station. She fills up her trusty car's tank and her newly acquired container. The lull after worrying makes her curiosity run riot and her mounting concern leads her to ask about the hermit in the mountains.

The old man isn't so forthcoming and he has not even given her his name.

Good thing the teen at the gas station is a lot more talkative. Andy, who introduces himself without any prompting from her, reveals that the old man's name is Luke and that he's an artist and likes to keep to himself.

Rey is an artist too—not well-known yet but she will be. "Is he any good?" she asks.

The 18 year old Andy grins then twists his head to glance at the owner of the gas station. He calls out, "Dad, do you mind if I show her Luke's painting in your office?"

The owner raises a thumb's up sign without lifting his head from the hood of a black car.

Rey is aware the boy is trying to impress her but at almost twenty, she feels a whole lot older than him. Normally, she would have refused the offer but she is curious and she doesn't really look forward to driving for more hours without talking to anyone. She's a sort of ambivert and right now, her extrovert personality is winning.

An 18 by 24 inches canvas, framed by a simple gold plated border, hangs horizontally at the back of the boss's chair.

"It's beautiful," Rey gasps. It's a picture of the gas station. It should be drab and boring but it isn't. The picture is so full of life even when the subject isn't.

The boy grins, proud of the painting. "Dad really shouldn't display it in his office 'cause it's really valuable but—" The boy lowers his voice into a conspiratory whisper, "—but nobody here really knows how valuable that one is. My dad had it appraised."

Rey nods her head, speechless. She knows the style even before she sees the small, really small signature at the lower right corner. Luke is Luke Skywalker! An elusive famous painter.

And she just met him!

—oOo—

Rey doesn't have a formal training but she knows she's good. She has brought two of her best paintings and intends to show them to Mr. Skywalker.

She has thought really hard about this. She previously planned to find Poe, her best friend Finn's friend hence the trip but this is so much better. Although, Poe will welcome her and Luke will probably not. Rey bites her lower lip, clutching the unweildy paintings tightly. She is already a day late in seeing Poe, a day or two more shouldn't make a difference if Luke refuses her.

She has rented a room in town, where she has planned her attack. She grins, she has made it sounds like she's going to battle. But she's not looking for a fight. She's looking for a teacher to teach her more about her craft, about art. Granted, she doesn't have that kind of money to pay Luke if he asks for an astronomical fee but she can clean for him and do his errands in town. She hears he doesn't like doing those.

The painting at the gasoline station was a sort of thank you from Luke for recieving help with some sort of car trouble ten years ago rather than a business transaction. She has learned from Andy, that his dad paid just two dollars for it. Obviously, Mr. Skywalker maybe grumpy but he's generous too.

With two canvasses hug to her person, she tramples a part of the mountainside up to Luke Skywalker's cottage.

Knocking on the door, just like she did yesterday, she calls out cheerfully. "Mr. Skywalker, it's me, Rey."

"Go away, Rey." Rey hears Luke's voice coming from inside the house.

"Aren't you curious, why I came back?"

"Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Can you atleast open the door?"

"No."

"I can tell someone that I have found the great Luke Skywalker. They will be happy to know your location, you know."

Luke opens the door. "You wouldn't do that."

Rey grins. "No, I won't."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to be my teacher."

Luke frowns. "I cannot teach you."

"Why not? You are not that busy," she says as she proffers the two paintings towards Luke. "Here."

Luke doesn't even glance at the paintings. "No," he retorts and slams the door on her face.

—oOo—

Time for plan B. She will not leave. She will have Master Luke as her teacher. So every time Luke comes out of his door, Rey is waiting for him.

"This is trespassing, you know," scowls Luke.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry but I really want you to be my teacher," Rey says solemnly, clutching one of her paintings, face out so Luke can still see it.

"Is that your work?"

"Yes, pretty isn't it?" Rey holds the frame so Luke can see it properly.

"The light is—no, I won't teach you."

"The light is?"

"You're so persistent."

"Yes, my friends say, it's one of my endearing qualities."

"Your friends are wrong."

Luke gets into his car and drives off, leaving Rey still holding her painting towards him and if he glances at his rear view mirror he can still see it.

Luke does peak at his rear view mirror at Rey's painting. For a kid with no formal education, she's good. Actually, she's better than good.

—oOo—

For four days, it continues, every time Luke goes out of his home he sees Rey. On the morning of the fifth day though, Luke doesn't see her.

Luke snorts. The kid isn't that persistent after all.

He is outside on the lawn, a medium canvas with a supporting easel in front of him when he hears her coming.

"Why are you back?" Luke grumbles.

"I was trying to get a job in town and..."

"And what?"

"I got the night shift at the diner."

"You're really stupid, aren't you?" Luke hits Rey's head with the paint brush handle. "This is just a small town but it's not totally safe especially at night."

"I can take care of myself." Rey answers, touching her head. It does not hurt but it has taken her by surprise. "I can do this," she adds, fisting her hands, she jabs the air with them and kicks with her right foot.

Luke shakes his head, returning his attention back to the canvas. He suddenly feels more enervated and his strokes on the canvas become less of a chore to pass the time.

"Can I watch you work?" Rey asks, hovering.

"No."

"But...okay." Rey walks away from Luke's canvas, looks for a spot on the grass to sit, sits down then takes her backpack from her back, fishes out her pad from it and starts to draw.

It's after an hour or two when the shadow of Luke blocks the sunlight on her pad.

Luke is watching her work.

"I'm good, aren't I?" Rey mumbles, her concentration on sketching the beauty of their surroundings, unmarred.

Luke simply grunts then with his hands on the small of his back, he starts strolling towards the house.

Rey scrambles to get up. Luke just leaves his canvas, easel, paints, brushes and the rest of his things and goes back to his house.

With a smile, Rey gathers his things. Luke Skywalker has finally deigned to teach her.

—oOo—

A/N: I have to change the year to 2001 because I don't think anyone can get lost these days. Glad I saw that movie on tv where they were using old phones that could text and call and nothing else.